


do you?

by kinneyb



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Quentin and Eliot discuss whether or not they want kids in the future.





	do you?

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the newest ep but it's ok if u haven't seen it it's still understandable
> 
> ★ please follow me on twitter @ queermight & check out my pinned tweet! ★

It's a dumb thing to do. They're happy and safe now. Not for long probably, but any amount of time with no looming threat is a blessing for them, so why would he ruin it by bringing up something so stupid? But it's been on his mind for so long, and at first he reasoned with himself: don't bring it up until it's the right time.

But there will never be a right time. There will always be dangers and concerns, and monsters will never stop existing.

So he just has to go for it. 

"Can we talk?" Quentin sits on the edge of the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the door closes and locks. Eliot smiles tiredly.

"Of course."

He wants this, yes, but he will never want anything more than Eliot. So he scoots forward and takes his hand. He needs him to know that. Eliot blinks a few times and sits up straighter, looking much more aware of the situation now.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

Quentin laughs. He squeezes his hand, firm but gentle. "No," he answers with a lopsided grin. "I just... wanted to talk about," he tilts his head a little, "our future."

"Oh." Eliot looks down at their hands, intertwined so beautifully. "Okay."

Quentin frowns. He will not let this be one of those conversations where he talks and Eliot just listens. He wants Eliot to know he has a say in this - in their future. He can tell he's been on edge ever since they saved him, like he's afraid Quentin will leave him at the smallest disagreement.

He frees up a hand just to place it on the side of Eliot's neck. "Look at me."

Eliot looks up, smiling a little.

"I love you," he says. He puts every ounce of love he has in his body in those three words.

Eliot smiles wider. He leans into Quentin's touch. "I love you," he mimics.

"I don't want you to be scared," Quentin continues softly. His hand moves up, cupping Eliot's face. He strokes his cheek with his thumb. "I love you," he repeats. "I'm not going to get up and leave. No matter what. I want this, and I want you."

Eliot laughs, a little wetly. "But you thought the same with Alice, right? And look what happened." He's avoiding eye contact. "And I hate to say it, but I'm pretty sure I'm even more fucked up than her."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Quentin asks. Eliot finally looks at him. "You're not Alice."

Eliot laughs again. "Right."

"And I've never felt this way before," Quentin leans forward, resting his forehead against Eliot's cheek. He's warm, so, so warm. "I promise you that."

"Okay," Eliot whispers, placing a hand on the small of Quentin's back. Eventually, Quentin pulls away. Eliot swallows around the lump in his throat; he's nervous, yes, but he's also overwhelmed by the man sitting in front of him. So sweet, so true, so beautiful. "So what did you want to," he gestures aimlessly.

Quentin goes back to holding Eliot's hand. "Have you ever thought about... being a dad?"

"I," Eliot shrugs. "I didn't," he replies, "until we were."

Quentin smiles a little. "Right, but I mean in this life." He stops Eliot before he can reply. "If you say yes before you even think about it because you think you have to, you'll be forced to sleep on the couch tonight. I want your honest opinion."

Eliot grins, big and wide. "Fuck, Q, a little bossy there, aren't you?"

"This is important," Quentin mutters, but he's smiling, too. "So have you?"

Eliot bites his lip, and Quentin almost has to look away because hey, that's his weakness and the fucker knows it, but then he stops. Quentin blinks, clearing his mind. "You want the truth?" Eliot asks.

"Yes," Quentin replies promptly.

Eliot looks down at their hands again. He strokes his thumb across Quentin's knuckles. "Yes."

"Okay," Quentin breaths. He clears his throat. "In like a good or..."

Eliot looks up. "I don't know. I mean, I'm me, Q," he laughs bitterly. "I can barely take care of myself. How could I ever care for - "

"You could," Quentin interrupts confidently. "I know that. That's not what I'm asking." He scoots closer still, kissing Eliot's chin. Eliot's weakness. "Do you like the idea of being a dad or not?" He nuzzles Eliot's neck. "There is no wrong answer. Swear."

Eliot laughs, slipping his arms around Quentin to hold him in place. "I don't know," he answers. "Both? I just. Yes, I guess it sounds... nice, but then my brain starts going haywire and I can't make it stop and it's a lot."

"Welcome to my life," Quentin mutters, warm lips pressing against sensitive skin. Eliot wiggles a little. His neck has always been sensitive.

"But you want to be a dad, right?" Eliot asks. His voice is steady. Too steady.

Quentin pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes. "Yeah," he says honestly. "But not unless you want that, too."

"That's..." Eliot trails off.

Quentin smiles, kissing him. Brief and sweet and with all his love. "I'm not running away," he mumbles. "Not now or ever."

"But if I never - "

Quentin kisses him again. "We'll figure it out," he answers simply. "Because I love you."

Eliot nods slowly. "I don't deserve you," he whispers.

"You do," Quentin says. He kisses him on the cheek. "You do," he repeats, kissing him on the nose and then the forehead and finally his lips again. "We deserve each other," he says confidently when he pulls away. "You know that, right?"

Eliot smiles, slow but surely. He pulls Quentin into his lap. "Want the truth?"

"Always," Quentin replies quickly.

"I don't," Eliot kisses Quentin before he can get all angry. When they separate, he smiles warmly. "But I'm getting there."


End file.
